


Fine Appreciation

by Nabielka



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/F, Gift Giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 04:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabielka/pseuds/Nabielka
Summary: Susan passes a gift on.





	Fine Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lbmisscharlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbmisscharlie/gifts).



The metal was cold around her neck, cold too where it just brushed Aravis’ breasts. She felt acutely aware of its touch against her skin, much as she was acutely aware of where Susan’s skin had brushed hers when the queen had fumbled with the clasp. 

Her position precluded her from mastering such trifles. No doubt she was daily attended, much like Aravis had been, back home. At most her lover would have clasped it tight around her neck and twisted her around to admire the effect. On Susan, who was more voluptuous, the jewel must have fit right between her breasts. 

“It suits you well,” said the queen with a smile. 

It was the sort of jewellery Aravis had seen on her stepmother on formal occasions. Perhaps if she had stayed to marry Ahoshta Tarkhaan, her father would have seen fit to bequeath that which had been her mother’s (on whom be the blessing of the gods) to her only daughter. Instead, she had heard not a word from him since coming to Anvard, though knowing that news of her stay there must reach him eventually, and indeed that the falsity of the missive from Ahoshta Tarkhaan must long since have been discovered, likely with the attempted delivery of her dowry, she had sent him a respectful missive singing herself as custom required ‘his daughter and slave’. 

She did not feel comfortable revealing all of that, not wanting the regard she saw for her person in the queen’s eyes to turn to sympathy, her caresses to turn to attempts to comfort. She said only, “You will not wish to wear it?”

The queen’s face turned serious. Her eyes dropped from Aravis’ face to the item in question. She said, “I had it from your Prince Rabadash as a courting gift. It would send a message I would not wish, were I to wear it now. Besides, I don’t much care to be reminded of all that.” 

Then, as if she had seen something she misliked in Aravis’ face, she added, “It suits you very well.”

Aravis put her hand down over the top of her own breast, so that with her fingers, she could push the jewel up enough for it to catch the light. “The Prince,” she was getting better now at remembering not to wish him eternal life, “has good taste.” She let her eyes flick up to Susan’s and added, half in jest, “Not only in jewellery.”

She had only intended to make her smile. Instead Susan flinched. It was only a second and then her face smoothed again, but Aravis caught it and dropped her gaze. 

Had she been in Calormen, she would have fallen to the floor. In Narnia, it was more difficult. Their relations being what they were, it was more difficult still. 

In lieu of an apology, she sought to turn back. She said, “Would you have me wear it to the ball?”

If the queen was appeased or relieved, she did not show it. But she segued easily enough to a discussion of which dress she remembered of Aravis’ would show it off to best light, and then an alternate upon hearing that the one she thought best had been left behind at Anvard. “It would go very well indeed with that dusky pink gown you wore for the ball for Lord Darrin’s birthday three moons ago. You may wear that cream kirtle of mine with the embroidery you admired so much in the spring.”

Her jewels, her kirtle. It was not so much a public declaration as a flaunting. Aravis felt herself go hot.

She did not entirely welcome the attention. There were still plenty of courtiers who looked at her and thought of Queen Susan’s Calormene suitor, reminded by the mere fact of her presence or by whatever else she did. When she trained, they muttered about the prowess Prince Rabadash had demonstrated in the tournament held in his honour; when she danced, they spoke of how he had taken the queen in his arms and whirled her around the banquet hall. This would hardly make them less likely to look askance. 

But she could not deny Susan and though a part of her quailed, she had too much pride still to decline. She was a descendant of the god Tash, she stood on her feet in the face of all the sovereigns of the Great North, she had the love of a Queen. Her lineage might count for little outside of Calormen, especially now she did not have the backing of her father, but she could at least accept that claim to respect since it had been proffered to her.

She let Susan kiss her with a smile.


End file.
